Timing Is Everything

Y’all know I love my furchildren. With the bad weather the last couple of days (TS Fay is stumbling through), they have been snuggling a lot. Leo has been determined to prevent me from leaving the house. He climbs on me, walks on my chest while I’m trying to type, and flops into my arms – he will do everything he can to get me to hold him, hoping that will keep me home. Poor baby. Soooo neglected.

Max got in on it this morning. I got up early to study so I could be ready for my 10 am class, and the kids could not STAND that I was sitting on the sofa without them. Pretty soon Leo was trying to get between me and the comp, and Max was “helping” him from the other side. Max finally curled up against my leg and napped, and Leo fell asleep on the back cushion with his paws propped up against my back. Murphy was with him, Ivy was across the room in another chair, and Frankie took to the back room for peace and quiet.

To top it off, JP came in soaked and determined to be loved. He followed me all over the house with a needy frenzy I haven’t seen from him since he was a kitten. From the potty to the kitchen to the living room study spot, he would rub and purr and stare until I gave him everything he wanted. I’m not sure where he finally landed, but it was just in time for me to have to get up and leave for school.

They looked at me like orphans being left on the steps of the hospital. I swear. If only they could know how much I’d rather snuggle, maybe they’d be content knowing I’ll be home again soon. My meow is rusty, though, and I’m never sure I am telling them the right things when I talk to them. I’m sure at some point I have told them the dogs are coming and they will be served for dinner, judging by the looks I get. Oh, well. I try. That has to count for something.

Lewis is missing. Max came home without him yesterday, and since his mentor, Buddy, is also home, I am concerned. They are usually attached at the hip.

One of our church elders was diagnosed with ALS yesterday. NOT what we were asking for, thanks. He’s had trouble with his breathing for a while now, but to find out it’s terminal… too cruel. He’s in his 50’s, very young. His first grandbaby shares my name (not on purpose). I want better than this for him. I know it’s a lot to ask of strangers, but if you could send up a brief prayer, I’d be grateful.

Well, that’s about it, I guess. I’m ending my first week as Professor Babe absolutely exhausted, but very grateful for the experience. I’m having fun. I haven’t done that at work for a very long time. Yay me.